Magic Moments
by Fasnacht
Summary: This is a take on their college years, after getting together at the end of I Remember You, but before Loula heads to college. In which a homesick Sam copes with misunderstandings, bugs, beer, bossy boyfriends, boots, and berry blast shampoo. Prompts and input are humbly requested. Warnings: College and relationships. A lot of things are Not Okay. Strong T.


Dad was jostled into her as they made their way down the hall. Gram held onto her purse as Sam fumbled to put the key into the lock, and the door swung open, its metal latch clicking easily. The threshold to adulthood had just made adulthood a very ugly thing indeed, like a Cold War European bunkers.

This was not the room she had been assigned via email, and the whole morning, they had spent running around like headless chickens, hoping to find the place where was to lay her head. One staff member said one thing, and another said something entirely different. Her electronic key card had been taken, and she had been given a key sure to turn her hand green.

When she'd gone to her original room, some girl named Arielle had been already settled in there, in her single room with wooden floors. She just wanted her own space, but finding wasn't so easy to do in a sea of buildings filled with dorm rooms. Sam tried not to feel as though she were being thrown to the wolves. "Are you sure?"

This was not the dorm she had been promised. She had been allotted a "charming single room, with wood paneling and a cosy window seat." What Sam saw in front of her was barely updated half of a cinder block square with a bed, a desk, and a closet that was little more than a hole hewn in the wall and a paperboard door tossed over it. The hall was swimming with people, and the noise reverberated off of the walls, making the small space seem even smaller than it was in actuality.

"This is the room on your sheet now, Sammy." Brynna replied, making the best of a sheet that had been rumpled as it had been passed from person to person to person in a never ending game of where they were going to stick her, like she was a broom in a closet. It had been nothing short of a colossal mess.

Her new roommate had slipped out, for some reason or other, leaving Gram, Brynna, and Dad to settle her in. "Yes, but Brynna..." Sam's throat felt tight.

"It'll be okay, Sammy." Gram promised, opening her suitcase with a sharp click and a soft voice. "We'll get your bed made up. It'll be just like home in a few days." Brynna began putting up curtains.

This was not what she had planned. They couldn't leave her here! She had never even gone to sleep away camp, and people were running in the halls and screaming. It beat all.

Gram had not listened, and Brynna was, in her usual way, acting like this was a grand adventure. Sam had agreed with her up until a while ago. She wasn't sure what made her not want to stay, but the idea that she simply she should not be letting her family walk out of the room without her was wrong. It shook something loose in her soul, something that reminded her that her home was at River Bend, and not here.

No, no, it wouldn't. This campus would never be her home. She tried the only other person in the room, "Dad, please..." She began, "I can't...Can't I please..."

Her father looked at her, and Sam knew it cost him a lot to deny her this. Sam knew he didn't want to leave her here. "You'll have fun, Sam." Dad paused for a moment, "Did I ever tell you your mother was the first person I met at school?"

Oh, Sam thought, he was trying to make her feel better, but this was not the way to do it. She knew that story, and Sam knew it would not be replicated in her own life. She had a boyfriend, so she wasn't likely to bump into somebody and know that she loved them, instantly, or argue and fight about land ethics like her parents had. She already knew she loved him, she just didn't like him so much today.

Dad had had somebody at school, and Jen was in Colorado, of all places. She had packed up last week and flown to Fort Collins. Who wanted to go to Fort Collins? Why, oh, why hadn't she gone there, too? She wished she was in Colorado, if she couldn't go home. At least then she would have someone there who wanted to talk to her. Her own boyfriend couldn't be counted upon as a source of conversation, not that, honestly, his silence was much different from the normal way of things. It just felt differently, now.

"No." Sam replied, hands tight on her last suitcase, as she tried to find something to do that could still her nerves and make her feel useful. She settled on holding onto her last suitcase for dear life. Gram pulled it away and began unpacking it, having already clucked at the lack of contact paper in the dresser and hung up everything else.

This was all a blur. A bedroom was taking shape around her. Her things were on the bed and the dresser, but this was not her room. Her backpack was hanging on the bedpost, but it was not the right bed. Somehow, the small remnants of her own things added to the cognitive dissonance she was feeling, as was some other things she did not dare voice, even in her mind.

"She was." Her father said, tucking down the edge of the rug, as Brynna plugged in a lamp on the desk. Who were these people, professional speed movers? What was going on? This was the Twilight zone, and her entire family was hopped up.

"You'll make good friends here, have all sorts of fun." Gram was putting Blackie on her bed, propping the stuffed horse up against the pillows. She looked back at the bed with satisfaction. Dad finished laying down the rug.

"I thought this was a good idea, Dad, but it's a madhouse." Sam played her last card, willing to come clean and be seen as a quitter to be home in time to feed her horses and read _The Ugly Pumpkin _to Cody. "Please, can't I..."

He cut her off, "We're sorry, but Sammy, this is a choice you made." Sam knew that. She had been completely confident until they'd pulled up on campus. She could never say that the stone gates made her feel funny inside, like this was finally real. "You just remember all the reasons you chose to come here."

Sam plopped down on the bed as Dad fiddled with her footlocker. He was intent on taking out the books she couldn't leave behind, the final touch in the room. The reasons she had elected come here had recently blown up in her face.

She had made this choice for academic, financial, and general feel of the campus. He had nothing to do with it, none at all. It was lovely and she was excited to be coming here. She still was, but she had never really thought about everybody leaving. Gram agreed, "In a few days, you'll wonder how you ever wanted to leave."

"Gram." Dad was fiddling with her footlocker, and Sam stood to try and help. The darn thing always stuck and the key was lost. Jake had an extra key to his own footlocker, but there was no way she was going to ask him for anything, today, not after the things he had said behind her back, like a stupid Jerkface coward.

Sam tried again. She was okay with being a coward herself, she was just going to be honest about it. It was the truth. "Don't you think that..."

"I think, Sam, you need to get that trunk open." Gram cut her off, with sympathy. Normally, she would have been told to can it by now. "Go find your RA and see if they have a screwdriver."

Sam knew that tone. She was in the way, here, in her own room. She went, entering the fray. The second she was alone, she felt a little less nervous. She could do this, at least this little thing, face this little challenge of a closed door. According to the schedule that was stuffed in the little folder she was supposed to carry everywhere, the doors were supposed to be open at all times during move in hours, so that the RA would be available and welcoming.

She found that she was glad to have the extra few seconds to gather her wits about her. It had been a long drive, listening to Gram go on about how she was grown up. Sam did not feel very grown up, so listening to assertions that she was made her feel even more guilty.

She knocked on the door that said Resident Advisor. It was pulled open to reveal a tan guy, with messy hair. His clothes said, "surfer dude" even as his accent said, "frat boy." "What can I do for you?" He was leaning against the frame, casually.

Sam explained her reason for knocking quickly. "I'm sorry, but my trunk won't open. Do you have a screwdriver?"

He looked around, "Give me two, and I'll be with you." The door slammed in her face. Sam stood there until another person bumped into her, and she figured out that he wasn't going to open the door anytime soon.

She shrugged and returned to her room. Gram passed the time reminding her to eat. Brynna left an extra $50 in the coffee mug on her desk, with a card she said not to open until later. Dad was shuffling from foot to foot. There was nothing left to say but goodbye.

Five minutes passed, and her family was getting ready to leave when there came a drawl from the door, "Did somebody ask for a good screw?"

Sam thought she heard Gram's jaw hitting the floor. She did not dare look at Dad for his reaction, after a super awkward discussion in which he had tried to tell her things about boys that she had been told at 11, and figured out for herself at 16.

He'd tried, though, and it was thought that counted, even if his analogies still blew. Sam had put the damper on the conversation before the cat got out of the bag that she was actually pretty decently versed in the practicals of what he had been trying to tell her, at least generally. Not that she would ever advertise that to Dad, and Brynna, thankfully, knew when to not bring something she knew up in conversation.

Sam looked up to see surfer dude, screwdriver in hand.

She crossed the room and replied, "No, but I did ask for a tool, and wouldn't you know..."

"Good one. I'm Blake." He looked over Sam's shoulder and cried, "And this must be your family! How good to meet you." He brushed into the room, his energy filling the space and overwhelming her soft spoken family, "Now, tell me, where ya'll from?"

Dad, Sam noted, looked furious, as his dark boots rested against her new purple rug. He looked every inch the imposing father, even if Sam knew better. Dad was something of a softie, totally unprepared for boys like this. Sam thought maybe she had made a mistake in protecting her father from such boys, in the long run. "Are you the RA, son?"

He looked over at Sam, who was trying with all her might to get the trunk open, and said, "What? Me?" Sam felt his gaze on the back of her legs, and moving upward. She stood quickly. She was not going to let this fool have the upper hand.

Surfer dude came over to the trunk when she moved away, and began to fiddle with the lock. "In charge of impressionable young thangs? No sir, I'm merely the head..."

"Skeeze." Sam broke in. Brynna looked amused. Her stepmother was clearly confident in Sam's ability to handle this overgrown little boy. Sam didn't much care, as long as he did his job and got the heck out of her room, they'd get along fine.

"I prefer 'slimebucket' if it's all the same to you." Blake replied, cheekily, as though she was the one who had committed a social sin by interrupting him, "As to your father's question, I am merely holding down the fort for a friend." They worked together, and Sam felt the lid give slightly.

Sam kicked the trunk softly. "Got it!" Sam cried, as the heavy lid popped up. "What friend? I'd like to give this back." She held tightly to the screwdriver, not believing that he, in fact, was not the RA. It was the same brand they used at home. At least he had decent taste in tools, even if he was one one. It took a tool to know a tool, she guessed.

Blake moved towards the door, "Now, sugar, don't you worry..."

Dad shot her a look. Sam tilted her head. She had this, she was a grown woman. This wasn't the worst kind of creeper she'd ever handled. She had gone to high school, hadn't she? Teenage boys were idiots, and they matured slowly.

"Call me 'sugar' again, and you'll be the one worried, we clear?" Sam said, putting her foot down.

Blake grinned.

Sam got the idea that he was all talk, not that that made what he was saying okay. He was harmless, a goofball, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to watch her back. She wasn't stupid. Dad didn't have to look so worried. The Ely boys had taught her a thing or two.

Blake grinned jauntily, and made his way back to his room. Gram looked disapproving. Still, she did not stop talking up the place, as though this college held the key to the universe.

Then, one minute, in a flurry of activity, they were gone. Sam had hugged Gram, and looked with new eyes at Brynna. Brynna, here, was no longer a new person in her life. Even Brynna was a source of comfort and warmth. She missed her family the second they walked out of the door. She tried to play it cool. It was a moment later that Sam realized that she had forgotten to hug her father.

Sam couldn't let that not happen. They weren't huggy people, but...

She left her room quickly, and went toward the stairwell. She got caught up in the effort of going with the flow of traffic, and bumped and jostled her way to the lobby, hoping that her family would still be there.

They weren't. Desperate with the urge to say goodbye, Sam pushed through the wide doors, past the sea of greeters. The truck was gone. Sam looked out into the parking lot, but there was nothing. Sam decided that she had nothing to lose. She all but bolted through the crowd, heading towards the lot. It was only then that she saw her father's truck in the line to leave the main lot of the freshman dorms.

Sam was on the edge of the sidewalk before she knew what she was about, and she didn't see amidst the sea of people that she'd bumped into a curvy woman. "I'm sorry!" Sam stammered, "I wasn't looking."

The woman's gaze was sympathetic. "I'll help you find your room..." She looked at Sam's nametag. Sam felt like someone had tagged her ear, "Samantha. I'm Niara, your cruise director on this ship headed to funtown."

Sam read that she was the Residence Life Assistant Director. Niara's ample chest was covered by a t-shirt that said that much. "I'm fine." Sam denied. "It was nice to meet you." Sam smiled faintly and headed back to her room.

When she got there, a girl was unpacking. Sam hoped that her roommate would be a good sport. She'd read too many horror stories online and from the Seth and the others not to worry.

The girl turned around after she hung up a few items in her side of the closet. "Hi, I'm Grier! You must be Sam. I saw your name on your papers." Grier gestured with a bright green hanger to papers on Sam's desk, "I'm happy to meet you. I'm so excited to be here."

Grier was certainly excited, but Sam found herself smiling as she introduced herself. Grier was not shy, and there were no walls to break through with her. "I'm a elementary education major, or at least I hope to be. I work at a summer camp, so I'm a whiz at unpacking." She pulled at the drawer, "Darn. It's stuck."

Sam hung up her own white dress that was required for various events on campus, and replied in kind, "I'm hoping to major in either art or environmental studies. My minor is definitely going to be ranch management." Sam added something she hoped Grier would enjoy as she hung up a Roy Rogers picture in the closet.

Grier shot her a look. Sam looked at the utter clutter in Grier's closet. She didn't have a bunch of shoes or anything to store, "I've got a three year old brother who is obsessed with Roy." She missed Cody so much. Talking about him hurt.

Grier chatted away, and Sam felt a little better. She was able to breathe when Grier went off to find the RA. Sam wondered who it would be. Maybe the RA would be the type of girl that would encourage people to make friends so she wouldn't be alone. It wasn't like she was going to be filling her free time with hanging out with Jake, like Jen insisted she would, once he groveled properly. She didn't know how he was going to approach what he'd done, but at this point, she wasn't putting her eggs in one basket, knowing what she knew about him now.

They had been dating since Coach had helped run that story. Kind of. Sort of. Did making out every single chance they got, count? Sam hadn't been sure at first, but she knew that they were together, now. Jake had looked at her like she was insane when she had broached the subject that they might not be in a relationship. Sam liked his steadfast certainty, his unfailing commitment to their relationship, no matter what it was. Their friendship had changed in few, small, but very significant ways.

They loved each other. They'd never said it, but they each knew it. She did not know how to reconcile what she had overhead with what she had overheard him say to Quinn. To say that she was angry wasn't the half of it. She was hurt. Hurt, Sam thought, as she easily fixed Grier's drawers, was the only word that matched up the indrawn feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sam hopped up on her bed to hang a poster. She'd made this one, and uploaded the .jpeg online for it to be printed on a poster that was mailed to her. It was a black and white photograph of her horses, Witch, Ace, and Tempest, as they looked up at her unison. They looked like horses she might have seen in a magazine, and she had been lucky to snap the photo.

Sam turned around to clamber off her bed, but stopped short when Jake filled the doorway. Sam couldn't believe how much she wanted to see him, now that he was here.

She looked down at her feet, and hopped off the bed as Grier followed Jake in the room. "Sam. I found somebody to help us out." Grier looked up at Jake, "Jake Ellis, did you say?"

Sam was glad she was sitting down, on her bed, with a flop. Grier's words felt like a punch, as did the look on Jake's face. "Ely." He corrected, "What do you need?"

He was looking at Sam, and Sam hoped in vain that he could not read her homesickness in the lines of her body, nor her shock in the set of her face, nor her traitorous joy at seeing him in the flush in her body.

"My dresser is stuck." Grier said, going over to pull it. It slid open easily. It had just been off the track. She did not want to embarrass Grier by admitting to her that it had been an easy fix. Grier had been gone from the room before she could offer to fix it. Frankly, Grier did not seem to have a lot in the way of repair skills.

"Alright." Grier mused, "That's funny." She wasn't upset, and she seemed at ease. Her drawers all opened easily, and she looked over at Jake.

He was still standing there, staring at Sam like he had never seen her before.

Sam prayed that Jake was not living in her dorm. Sam prayed that he was merely here to help with move-in day, wearing that dumb t-shirt that made his eyes seem browner and his long limbs more defined.

She hadn't spoken to him in almost a week. Who knew what he was up to or why he was poking around. If he had given a thought to apologizing, she wasn't sure how she'd take it.

"Very funny." Jake agreed, and Sam realized that he knew how angry she was. "Welcome to Russell Hall." He said as if by rote, "There's a floor meeting at ten-thirty, quiet hours start at eleven, doors open and feet on the floor if you have guests, when you leave your doors are to be locked, and the peephole used at all times." Jake looked at her, like she was some HARP kid he'd caught smoking, "The sign-in log will be checked if no one can find you or you stop answering your phone."

Grier smiled, "I can't believe the school is so strict." Her grin became knowing, "But you're going to tell our RA adopt a don't ask don't tell policy, aren't you?"

Jake didn't waiver, and said, "They're basic rules..." At that, Sam's blood boiled.

Sam didn't hear what else he said to Grier. The school wasn't so strict, and he didn't care anything about what anyone did. He was really into minding his own business. He hated rules for the sake of rules.

Her, though, he seemed bent on lecturing. Sam was so annoyed that she cut into the conversation she had been ignoring, "Next you'll be telling us that freshman can't be seen with upperclassmen."

It was a jibe, but it was what is what was. He shouldn't have said those awful things to Quinn if he wasn't going to own them later, in front of everyone. The things you did in the dark always came to light. She wasn't some on the side kissing buddy, nor was she a child to be minded and ignored.

A look crossed his face. Sam just arched a brow. He really wanted to do this now? Fine, that was his choice. She was done waiting.

Jake's wordless directive was clear. Sam thought about ignoring him, but she figured that stepping outside would give her a shot to give him a small slice of her mind. He couldn't handle the whole thing.

Grier didn't pay them any mind as Sam got up and went to the doorway, other than to send Sam a suggestive look she chose to , actually, she mouthed, "He's hot." Sam did not even care. She was welcome to him.

The hallway, for the first time in forever, was orderly. Why had things cleared up with Jake's appearance? His ease slipped, "Don't try to rile me up because you're upset."

She was embarrassed that he could see how on edge she was. It was something she was trying to hide, simply because grown women did not cry because they missed their cat and their baby brother and their horses and their garden and their father and their laundry soap.

Sam told him exactly what she was thinking as he pulled the door shut behind them. "You can take your pedantic rules and shove them, Jake. I have better things to do than be upset by you." Sam snapped. "And if you think I came here to be bossed about, you've got another thing coming."

Jake looked hurt, which Sam found no real pleasure in, even as a gaggle of people walked past them. She wanted to be overjoyed, but some part of her insisted that they needed to stick together.

Jake's gaze was stoney, "Then go do them, Sam."

Sam stepped back, and did not avoid his gaze. He was so annoying. "Just don't push your luck while you're at them." He warned.

When she went back into the room, Grier had been clearly listening, "So I know we just met, but we girls have to stick together. What did he do?"

Sam was just about to vent, when she sighed, "It's tough being three years younger and the only girl, sometimes. There are six boys above me, and I..." She could not tell this girl the whole story. It was too complicated. Better she think that Jake was just an annoying older friend than her very best friend that she was in love with, who had hurt her and angered her. It was easier to see why he might scorn her this way if she went back to the basic context of their relationship. Nothing she had said was a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth. Thank God for families of choice.

Grier smiled, "Say no more. He's appointed himself to keeping you in line." Sam didn't agree. He had, obviously, but why? What, on earth, Sam wondered gave him that right? She hadn't.

Grier looked over the schedule, "The best way to get him back is to have some fun he can't say a word about. Come on!"

Sam picked up her packet and her lanyard and smiled. She could try. She could try very hard, and maybe this feeling of wrongness would go away. She fleetingly wondered if her family had stopped for lunch on the way home, and wished with all her might that she was there with them, in the ease and comfort of family life. She followed Grier to the gym, and threw herself into orientation. Adjusting to this new world was tough, and she needed all the help she could get.

* * *

><p>Two hours. Two hours and she hated college. It was horrible. They wanted her to play games. Games. Sam wanted to go home. She'd begged, upon seeing the madhouse that was her dorm, to be allowed to come right back home with Dad, Gram, and Brynna, but that hadn't happened. Surely they would bring her home now, after playing a game where she'd had to come up with an adjective that started with 'S' to describe herself. Silly Sam felt silly indeed, because she wasn't silly, but her mind had gone blank when the whole circle looked at her.<p>

She slipped away when her group was going to another activity. She'd been told twelve times that this whole thing was optional, and she could not stomach the insanity of a pep rally or whatever it was.

Sam sneezed when she was walking past a big group of people in grey shirts. She tried to blend into the non-freshman, but she had no idea where she was really going. Sam sat on the concrete stairs on the corner of the quad and pulled out her timetable and map. She was free for another hour at least, and then they had dinner on their own, before a group activity to ensure they got back to their floor meeting. There was three hours of free time.

Grier had gone with the flow of games and community building, but Sam just couldn't do it. She needed a fix. She pulled open her bag, and yanked out a tin of cookies.

Max had sent them along for her and Jake to eat. At this rate he wasn't getting any. Sam broke a piece of one, and put in her mouth. Even the tastes of home made her want to cry. It was just the quiet moments that made her sad. She did okay when she was busy, but there was no work to keep her busy here.

Sam watched as a bug scuttled over the bricks. "Hi, bug." Sam said, utterly aware that she was utterly insane. "What do you think of orientation? I bet we've messed up your schedule." The bug paid her no mind as it climbed over the brick.

Sam drew up her feet closer to her body, so that it would have more room on the stairs upon which she was sitting. "Poor bug." She sighed, and let the sounds of campus swell around her.

She felt more alone than ever. Weeks ago, she had been thrilled to be on her way here. Her head had been stuffed full of dreams. That was, until a few days ago when reality had set in, and she had just about lost her cool. It had hit her that she did not want to leave her home and family, and it had her hard. A couple of days ago, she'd gone to Three Ponies, and had been rounding the door to the barn when she'd heard Quinn speak.

He'd said, "So you're not excited at all?" That was Quinn, the eternal optimistic, the happy camper, the reconciler. Sam wanted to know, so she had slowed down, not caring that she was eavesdropping. It wasn't like nobody else did it. Trying to get a moment alone at home was like trying to find water in the desert.

She knew why Gram always said eavesdroppers never heard anything nice about themselves when she'd heard Jake reply, "No. You think I want freshman around? I don't want to deal with showing someone around, and all of that crap." Sam could barely hear over the blood rushing in her ears. Never would she have anticipated his next words, "I should have gone to a UC or something. I wouldn't have this problem if there were 30,000 students."

Sam had made up her mind to steer clear of him in that moment, if he wanted it so much, and it clearly wasn't going well. He had been standoffish at the third brush off she'd given him, when he'd tried to talk to her about Ace. He was fine without her, but he'd gotten huffy when she simply started finishing up their summer cases without much of his input and had utterly distanced herself as best she could.

Except...for at the summer party, when he'd almost gotten the truth out of her, with the loud, tense, silence between them wearing on her like a load of bricks. After that, Jake took to wearing his comfy sweatshirt in the mornings, and talked a lot about the weather. Then, the next morning, he was gone, and there was nothing to say. They were not driving here together, she guessed, if he up and left days early just to get away from her.

She had been inexplicably hurt that he would rather go to a school system that he often said was too big rather than deal with her being on the campus. She had turned right around and gone to Jen, where they'd eaten ice cream and raced their horses. Sam resolved to avoid him physically, even if she did hate her mind when she couldn't avoid him mentally.

But she couldn't avoid him. Darn. Darn. Darn, and darn her heart for being happy to see him.

Jake was walking her way, carrying three boxes of who knew what. Sam pointedly kept her focus on her phone, trying to pretend like she hadn't seen him at all. She had read all of the internet lists. She knew how this was going to go down. He would walk by.

It didn't work. He dropped the boxes on the bench next to her, "You're supposed to be playing games."

"I don't see why you care." Sam said, looking at his feet to make sure he hadn't hurt or squished her friend, Bug. Poor Bug didn't deserve his torment. Bug scuttled away, into the dirt in the planters. Even he didn't want to be friends. "Don't you have something to do?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "If you're not going to go do what you're supposed to do, come on." He picked up her bag, set it on top of the boxes, and picked up two of the three boxes and her bag, leaving her with no choice but to follow him into the building, and down a flight of stairs in silence.

He swiped his ID and let them both into the student government space, and put the boxes on the table. He blinked at her, "There are eight more boxes. We can get them, or you can go to the gym. Your choice, Sam." The rock or the hard space, Sam thought.

There wasn't even a question. She would still choose him. Didn't that make her a masochist? With that realization fresh in her mind, Sam set about sorting boxes of Welcome Week supplies, uncaring as to why Jake was helping or why she stayed and helped, the silence all around them. She knew why he was helping the school. He was nice to people he cared about, and utterly indifferent those who didn't matter.

* * *

><p>Sam tried to stop looking for the dark head of hair in the crowd of students. She wasn't here for him, her finding a place here wasn't predicated on him. Thousands of freshman got by just fine without the built-in best friend she'd had all her life. This was not summer camp. She had been his shadow at summer camp.<p>

"Sam?" Grier asked, as they crossed into the crowded dining hall, blocking out the sound of crickets and cars for chatter and the clatter of plates. "Who are you looking for? I bet I can help you find them."

Sam twirled her fingers in the strap of her wristlet. Grier had spoken to at least five people on the way here. She knew everyone, or wanted to, it seemed. She always had a smile on her face, even now, even when she was looking at Sam like she needed her head examined. Maybe she did. Sam shook her head quickly, realizing that she had been scanning the area. Sam made up a lie to save face in front of her new roommate. Grier would never understand. "Just trying to find a table." They blended into the crowd and the lines, and it was only then that Sam realized you could not see the tables until after you'd paid for food.

She definitely looked crazy. Sam was standing next to Grier, who had once again made another friend in the line, and putting food on her tray when she saw him.

She did not look. Her eyes simply zeroed in in the last place she wanted them to, without her knowledge or consent. She wanted to look away, but she didn't have the guts. Sam picked up a veggie burger. Jen said she was a snob about meat, but it was hard to eat meat that she didn't know where it had come from. Every bit of it she ate was produced and dispatched at home, so when she went to places like this, she mainly went vegetarian. It was a quirk, but it didn't make her snobby.

Sam's hand on was the sweet potato fries, when it wobbled. Some girl had gone up to Jake, some girl with chestnut brown hair and legs and a big, wide, smile, and thin fingers that touched his arm just so when she spoke. Her big eyes took in his smile. Sam's stomach twisted.

Grier bumped into her, and Sam accepted her apologetic look. "Sorry." Sam did her best to swallow a grin. Grier would never doubt her insanity now.

The girl had obviously come over to drop off a flyer. She was on her way, fluttering and laughing at the next table. She wasn't staying, sitting in the empty seat next to Jake, filling the empty spaces. Sam wasn't going to sit there, it was just the idea that made her happy.

He had never been unfaithful to whatever they were. He never would be, no matter how badly he lied and hurt her. But, if they were, over...he would have every right to be with that woman. If they were over, Sam would have to... Sam saw that there were two slices of cake left. On an impulse, she took both slices, and put them on her tray.

Grier gave her a look that said "Calories, calories!" that Sam accepted with a small blush. Sam lost her in the line to check out. Grier was always, in the few hours Sam had known her, making new friends.

One new buddy was as good as any other to Grier, but Sam missed her friends. She missed Jen so much she ached. Sam's eyes clouded over, and she blinked tears away. She missed Jen, and she wanted to go home. Jen would understand the second slice of cake, would roll her eyes, and accept it as normal. Seeing Jake again just made it worse, not better like Gram had promised.

Sam's feet started moving once the cashier smiled sympathetically, having seen hundreds of homesick freshman over the years. Sam was looking around for Grier when she saw her, laughing and joking with some girls she'd met earlier. Sam knew instantly that there was something wrong with her. She could not move on like that, could not make new friends so simply, so without depth, so without the ties that bound her and Jen and...

Sam looked around the wide room, and knew that the universe was giving her a choice. Make a choice, something whispered inside of her, as Sam's eyes landed on the emptiness of the table around Jake. Sam looked down at the cake on her tray in her grip, and knew that she had made her choices before she even knew there was a choice to make.

Sam put one foot in front of the other, and wove in and out of the tables. "Sam!" Grier called, "We're here!"

Sam looked up, and realized that Grier was looking at her. Sam waved rather than shouting across the room. Too many people were looking as it was. Grier got the message, and went back to talking with the loud group of girls that all seemed to know exactly how to wear their orientation t-shirts so that they looked fashionable, and not like a tent.

Sam swallowed, and set the cake on the table. "You should eat." Jake hadn't yet touched his food, and was sitting at the table with his nose stuck in a book. He hardly needed to know more about _Horsemanship in WWII: Volume 3_.

Sam cursed internally. She was always telling him things he knew, and it only served to make her look foolish. She wanted this to be nothing, a simple, thoughtless gesture, not a bid for companionship. Jake said that she tried to tell him what to do that it was a bid for attention and affection. He had actually said that he knew she wanted him when she was bossy, but she didn't like that word. She also did not want to think about sex right now.

"Are you going to stand there?" Jake voice was a welcome sound, and Sam felt sadness welling. She just wanted to hug him, bury her face in his collar, see if he still carried the faint scent of their barns, still felt crisp and warm, like the wind at home.

Sam set her tray down with a soft clatter. He should really try to grow some empathy. She was homesick, and he was acting like he hated her.

Maybe he did.

That awful conversation she'd overheard with Quinn hit home. Maybe he didn't want her here. It had never really occurred to her that he'd meant what he'd said to Quinn. She had been annoyed that he hadn't talked to her. He was hard enough to talk to, without some kind of random, hurtful, secret.

"Did you mean it?" Sam asked, deciding that he could go bulldog the Mississippi if he thought she was a coward, and would let this go for one second longer.

"Did I mean what?" Jake asked, reaching between them for a napkin. He untwisted the cap off of her juice, and set it on the table between them.

Sam figured that this was the only moment of peace she was going to get for a long time. Her hands and heart got lost in the ease of setting out their food, moving plates, finding silverware she'd forgotten stowed on Jake's tray.

Sam swallowed. He was going to humiliate her, but she needed to know. "What you said to Quinn...about..."

Jake frowned, and Sam had her answer. He'd meant it, he'd meant it. How could he have honestly meant that she was a freshman loser that he didn't want to be seen with? How could he honestly believe that she was going to cramp his style? He didn't have _style_, he barely spoke or stayed still for ten seconds. And yet, she was the loser. Right.

He wasn't even looking at her, now. Sam turned her head, ready to tell him off when she saw a guy with a tray clearly walking their way. Sam looked back at Jake, a question in her face. Who was this guy?

Jake said quickly, "Cortland." He didn't look too happy, but Sam knew that was because he was being seen with her in front of his roommate.

She realized quickly that this was what he'd meant to Quinn. She was hanging around him the first shot she got, and he didn't want her around. He didn't want her. Sam's chest constricted. She blew out a steadying breath. She knew Jake was watching, had seen her reaction, and Sam hoped that he could not read the feelings in her eyes.

Sam looked down into her fries. She was a mess, she knew, and was very probably taking out her issues on Jake, but she didn't want his roommate around, didn't want the fact that he had a better relationship with this stranger than he did with her to be shoved in her face.

It hurt. She was bleeding inside, desperate to feel something, to feel safe, and feel like she was connected, like she belonged. For a few faint seconds, as they set out their food, she had. She had felt that glimmer, and with the inclusion of the nondescript guy that was nearly upon them, it was gone.

"Hey, y'all." Cortland said, sitting down easily.

Sam returned his greeting with a smile. It was forced. Her throat hurt. She was going to cry. There was no space here, for her. She wasn't one to force her presence where it wasn't welcomed. But, before, that had been because she'd always had Jake and Jen to run back towards, always known that they had been there. She missed Jen.

Sam pulled out her phone and texted Jen, and then pretended to look busy on her data plan. She checked her Facebook, and her emails. There was so much on there that there was nothing she could find to look at.

Cortland and Jake were talking. Sam didn't really have anything to say. How could everyone be so happy when she was so sad? Sam nearly texted Gram. She wanted to go home.

"Sam?" Cortland said, and Sam jumped and looked up. He was looking at her, and then at Jake, like he was trying to involve her in the conversation that had been moving slowly between Cortland and Jake. He was a nice guy.

"Sorry." She reached for her juice only to find it gone. Jake raised his eyebrows above the glass bottle when she snapped, "Do you know how hard it is to find that flavor? You don't even like it."

Sam regretted her temper the second it flared. There was a case of it in the dining hall, and it wasn't like she couldn't go buy a dozen. It was just the idea. They weren't supposed to be friends at school, according to his little chat with Quinn, and here he was, stealing her food like nothing was the matter, when everything was. Random people did not share food.

Cortland smiled at her, and Jake shrugged and exchanged a telling look with the dark haired boy. It was all she needed to see. They'd talked about her.

Sam's phone buzzed again. She picked it up, but before she could even unlock it, a large hand covered her own gently. "Eat."

"Mind your own business." Sam snapped, pulling her arm away. She did not want to look mean in front of Cortland. She'd promised Gram she would try and keep her head on around Jake and to make new friends, too. Somehow, she thought Gram wasn't worried about them fighting.

They fought all the time, but never like this, with cold silence. She was the yelling type. He stood there, and asked, quietly, if she was finished. Sam didn't think it was going to play out that way this time.

Jake's brows were pulled together, and he was looking at her phone as though it held the secrets of the universe, "I'm waiting to hear from Pepper. Tempe and Witch are not happy." The question spilled out before she could stop it, "Can I have the keys?"

"No." Jake replied, palming her phone, entering the lock code, and turned up the volume, switching off the vibration mode. He slid it into his pocket. "Freshman can't have cars on campus."

It was then that she realized that he'd confiscated her phone, and that he had guessed the code she'd changed it to yesterday. Just because he was a student here did not mean that he got to run her life here. If she wanted to stick her phone in her face 24/7 it had nothing to do with him. He was not her keeper, not in charge of her, didn't dominate her. He didn't care, didn't want her around, and she did not owe him her consideration.

"I'm not five." Sam felt obligated to point that out.

Cortland was grinning at her, and it was all too much. She stood up, her chair scraping against the tile. Sam turned and walked away.

She had taken two steps, when she spun neatly on her heels, and reached over the table to grab her juice. It was her stupid juice.

Sam ignored Jake as she leaned over him. Her chest was nearly in his grasp, from her position, every bit of her was impossible to miss. It was a taunt, and she knew it, but she was annoyed. "It was nice to meet you, Cortland." Sam smiled as brightly as she could at him, her exit utterly ruined as she stood up and caught the look in Jake's eyes.

Sam picked up her phone from where Jake had placed it on her tray, and walked away, ignoring Jake as he said, "Don't go gunning for it, Sam, stay on the quad. It's a long walk, and there's activities planned." She hated him, hated that she couldn't stop herself from reading a deeper meaning into his words as she walked away. Sam raised the bottle to her lips.

He'd drank all of her juice. Oh! Just because he was _him_, did not put him in authority over her, even if that dark note in his voice did make her knees a bit rubbery and her pulse quicken. It weeks and months prior, it would have been anticipation. Gunning for it, Sam thought, yeah, right.

* * *

><p>Sam stayed on the quad. She pushed two buttons as she tried not to cry. She listened to the ringing of the phone. Before the voice on the other end of the line spoke, she began. "I hate him!" She said, into the phone.<p>

Sue's voice was sympathetic, "Sam..." Sam sat down on a bench, away from the clusters of people. She could not bear to be around people.

"He acts like I'm five. At check in, he gave some spiel about rules. Did he barge into anyone else's room and blather on about rules and curfew and open doors? No! And then I got stuck carrying boxes, and was there a bit of gratitude shown?" Sam sniffed, "And then at dinner, he took my phone and glared at me and drank all of my juice, and I want to go _home_!"

"Wait, wait." Sue said, "Back up. What rules?" Sam thought that she was in her comfortable apartment, and Sam would have been okay, being there, even.

Sam replied, "Rules. Sign in, sign out, lock the door, check the hole in the door thing when someone knocks, keeping the door open if there's people in the room, no drinking, lights out, silent hours..." Sam did not dare mention their last discussion, "I'm not five, Sue!"

"Sounds to me like he wants to keep you safe, Sam." Her aunt did not even try to hide the smile that Sam could hear, "He's always been like that. Did you really think that any changes you made in your relationship would change him, fundamentally?" Sam regretted telling her aunt much of what was going on, because Sue thought Jake was Jake. She'd needed to talk to somebody, and it was clear that Gram and Dad were not options, well, because Dad was convinced she was Not Ready, and Not Old Enough and Just a Little Girl and His Baby, and Gram wasn't above going to Dad, or worse, pillow talking to Dallas.

Sam knew relational partners didn't change people. She knew that. It wasn't that. If he had wanted to be all autocratic while they had good communication going, fine. She could tell him to stuff it, but with all these things going on, she didn't understand why he cared one whit about her choices. Sam wondered if it was too late to become a Ram, with Jen. The agricultural college there was looking better by the second, as was the journalism program. What looked best was Darton County Community College.

"He said to Quinn that he didn't want to be forced to hang out with loser freshman all term." Sam confessed, "And that he wasn't happy about being assigned to play keeper. I've never asked him for anything, and then I come here, and I swear he's trying to be mean!"

"Uh-huh." Aunt Sue drawled. This call was pointless.

Sam didn't know who else to call. She had to talk to somebody, but Dad got all wonky when she complained about Jake, Gram told her to bake something and discuss it with him, and calling Brynna was out, because Cody was at his Cub Scout thing by now. She couldn't call Jen. According to Facebook, Jen was at something with the rest of the physics department freshman. And Ally was so not the girl to go to with issues about Jake. Even prayer could not soothe her ire.

Sue had an idea, "So then tell him you think it would be best if you went separate ways."

Sam faltered. She didn't want that. Even if they did end their relationship, she didn't want to end their _relationship_. Not that she wanted to end anything. She didn't.

He was her last bit of home. When she saw him, she felt happy inside, like she belonged with him, like there was a space for her beside him, like she knew him best and there was no reason that she didn't belong here. She knew his secrets, and he knew most of hers. "But I..."

Sue cut her off, "So you're not willing to tell him to take a hike and shove his attitude?"

Sam colored. She'd done that once, in a fit, and then she'd walked into the feed room door because she'd been so annoyed, and he'd kissed her until the only words she could remember were his name and how to swear that she was his as much as he was hers, in shuddering, pleasured, broken, words.

Then he'd grinned like the possessive jackass he was for days on end. Just that slow smile had kept her on edge for ages.

Sam switched the phone on her other ear, "Like he listens. I'm just so mad. I want to go home before I kill him. Him being...who he is...does not put him in charge of me. I can do what I want."

"Of course you can, honey." Sue affirmed, "But before you engage in freshman revelry, dry your tears, pull that hat of yours down, and talk to Jake about what you overheard. If you don't like what you hear, I'll get in the car now, be there in a few hours, and we'll light that Scout of his on fire."

Sam let out a peal of shocked laughter. The image was satisfying. "I get the Scout when he trades up. Arson is a no go. But I wouldn't mind you busting me out of this place. It's awful."

"Don't let your Dad or his checkbook hear you say that. He may never recover." Sue said, "Sammy, seriously, talk to Jake. You'll feel better."

* * *

><p>Sam had another hour to kill, even after talking to Grier, who had suddenly appeared on her bench, somehow. Sam wondered if she had overheard anything over the loudness of the group of women she was amongst.<p>

She was supposed to be "enjoying a leisurely meal with new friends" according to her handout. Sam hadn't wanted to go with Grier and her new circle. They were going on about some party, and when she'd tried to bond and talk about her horses, that hadn't seemed to care.

Whatever. Maybe she should take up smoking. It would give her something to do out here, and it would put off the idea of ever being kissed again. Sam headed toward the closest door, hoping to find something to occupy herself.

The hallway was down a small set of stairs, and it was dimly lit. It made Sam think of old duck and cover films down here. Obviously, people were not supposed to be down here right now. Sam heard Bob Dylan playing, and realized that there was someone else down here avoiding people with decent taste in music. Maybe she could make a friend.

Sam moved down the hall, and saw the sole lit room was a study room. It was a study room, clearly, but there was clearly no studying going on. There was craft supplies all over the table, but the person sitting at the table was no artist. He muttered a curse.

"If Max heard you, she'd wash out your mouth." Sam said, coming into the room. Jake's eyes took in her presence, and he did not kick her out. Sam sat down on one of the wheeled chairs. What did it matter if this was all their relationship was now? She was pathetic enough to know that she would give and take what she could until they could figure this out.

"Maybe." Jake admitted, shuffling through papers and craft supplies. He searched in vain for a marker. Sam wasn't about to tell him that it was on the floor by his foot.

"What..." Sam filtered through his attempts with one hand, "Are these door signs?" Could he even write in marker? Georgina. Nita. Sadie. Carly. Carrie. "How did you get saddled with this?"

Jake looked up from the paper he was reading, "The girl they had backed out four days ago. I'm stuck with all these freshman."

"And we all know how you feel about freshman." She snapped. She took up a piece of paper, this one was grey, and grabbed a purple marker. The leafy design she made with the "G" flowed carefully into the 'e.' She did not look up as she moved quickly through the first name on the list.

"I didn't want this. I don't want this. I'm doing my best." Jake returned, tossing his hat over the back of the chair to hang on the knob. "You'll stay?"

"Unlike some, Jake, I'm not mean." She sighed, understanding that getting stuck with this group of freshman was not something he relished.

He needed her, and Sam would give anything to stay away from those crowds. "Get a recycle bin. I don't tell you this often enough, but you really suck sometimes. I'll get this done." There was no malice in her tone, and Jake grinned. The moment felt lighter than most between them had today.

Sam looked down at the list again. There were only a handful of people. The last two had her nearly shaking in rage. The list read: Gombosi, Arielle Hannah & Perkins, Grier Prudence.

It wasn't what it said, but how it said it. Her name was written in pen, and scribbled in his handwriting instead of a computerized printout, written over the other girl's name.

Sam needed to think. "Go away." She needed to think, think, think.

"Go away?" Jake asked, having set the recycling bin next to her and watched as she pushed every door sign he'd made into the bin. He was a crap artist. "Don't think you can tell me what to do."

Sam rolled her eyes. There wasn't a single guy on the block of rooms he was overseeing, even though the floor was co-ed. Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears, "It's strange that they put a guy in a women's block."

"Says the girl who had a single room in the middle of a co-ed wing with co-ed bathrooms." Jake retorted, "Your argument is invalid."

He shouldn't know that.

She had only found out that the bathrooms were co-ed this morning. She hadn't known, and had been almost glad to dodge the bullet of having nowhere else to shower except when some straight guy might walk in. She had no issue with sharing a bathroom with anyone who wanted to use the women's bathroom for whatever reason, no matter how they defined being female. It was just that she didn't want to walk into a bunch of guys showering. She'd done that last year, and Quinn and Nate still hadn't let her live it down.

"How did you know where I was..." Sam trailed off, things coming tother in a blinding flash. The wild goose chase had meant that she had been moved, _moved intentionally_, not lost in the shuffle.

A look of guilt flashed over his face.

"Oh. My. God. You moved me!" Sam looked at Jake, and she knew. She knew. He didn't trust her. He didn't want her, but he didn't trust her.

Sam threw the marker at him. It didn't hit him, and he looked wounded, like she had never thrown anything at him before. "You're the reason they gave away my single with a window seat for a cell in _Shawshank_!" Her room was awful, awful, and it was all his fault! She had a roommate who was, literally, a perfect college girl, and it was all his damn fault!

Jake rolled his eyes, but his hand went to the Phantom's bracelet. "I don't think Shawshank has game nights." He had completely been behind her wild goose chase this morning, why or how she did not know. Why, why, why?

"You would know, Warden." Sam spat. Warden was better than RA. He was the RA for her wing. She wanted to cry. How had she not seen it? The t-shirt, the rules...The rules. "I am so pissed at you. You can't have it both ways!"

"I'm just going to let that bit about being a warden go, because you're homesick, and I'm a patient person." Jake said, crossing his arms. Oh, this was his fighting pose. Bring it on, Sam thought, bring it on.

"Yeah, you're so patient that you told Quinn you didn't want to be seen with me, but you come up with some creepy way to keep tabs on me anyhow!" Sam didn't put too fine a point on it, and spoke her thoughts, "What, we can't be...together, but I can't be trusted to figure this out on my own, when you so clearly don't want me?"

"Don't put words in my mouth." Jake lied and denied. It was all she could bear. He was lying to her face. Somehow, she decided, that really was worse than talking about her behind her back.

"Oh, I'm not. I wish I were. I had such high hopes for this, but six hours in, and it's all gone up in smoke." Sam pushed to her feet, her gaze flying around the tiny room. "Make your own signs. Maybe..."

There was nothing left to say. She could not say 'maybe we shouldn't be together anymore.' She couldn't even think it. What that said about her, and her nonsensical love for the man before her, she did not know.

Sam left the room, knocking over a bunch of markers and papers as she tripped accidentally over the splayed feet of the rolling chair.

Jake followed her, his large strides eating up space easily, which Sam had not been expecting, "I saw my assignment and saw to it that you were put on my floor." Sam spun around, surprised not at his admission, but at the lengths he had gone to to achieve what he'd done.

The hallway was darker than it ought to be, Sam thought, "Why?" She needed to know. He faltered. "You need to tell me, because I'm 30 seconds from walking away." Her knees were jelly, but she'd do it.

"They assigned me the third floor of Russell, and I saw a shot to...make the best of a bad situation, and I did it. I'm not sorry." Jake retorted like she was utterly stupid, "With all those freshman to look after, how were we...?"

Sam made a sound that cut him off. "You wanted to keep an eye on me. Don't lie!" Sam returned, their voices echoing off the walls of the hallway. How could he profess to love her, in deed, if not word, and then turn around and try to play warden? This was supposed to be them getting out on their own, their big step into adulthood. She'd thought the protective crap would go, honestly, even a bit. But was this concern or something else?

"That's part of being together, Sam!" Jake returned, "I've got your back, and you've got mine." His voice dropped, "It was, anyhow."

He had no right to put that on her. She ran a hand through her hair, "You said to Quinn that I..." She could not bring herself to humiliate herself in front of him.

Jake cut her off, closing the gap between them, and lowering his voice. The volume was not there anymore, but the frustration was.

How dare he be frustrated? She was the one who had to figure out how to be without him for so long, had to think of ways to live her life without him, day after day after day.

How dare he, when he had all but backed her into a corner, figuratively, and literally, she realized, as her back bumped gently into the wall. "Not everything you overhear is about you, Sam! I didn't want to be an RA. I only wanted to do the orientation activities and stuff with Coach, but things happened, and we're stuck."

"You're stuck." Sam corrected coldly, feeling the arch of her back and the press of her chest against his warm body keenly, "I'm not. I could go home. I could just go home, and then today would have never happened, and I..." Sam blinked away tears. She was nearly in his arms, and she felt desperately alone. "I wouldn't be so alone here."

Jake's voice was almost guttural, "Where the hell did you get 'alone' out of what I just told you?" Thankfully, he looked up, and Sam took that chance to step aside and walk up the stairs. Jake was rooted to the spot.

Sam did not reply. There was no togetherness in the things he had said. He wanted to keep an eye on her? Well, fine, but he was going to get an eyeful, just see if he didn't.

* * *

><p>Grier was her new best friend. Well, she thought she was, when Sam came into their room and tentatively asked if she could still tag along to that party that Grier wanted her to go to. Sam allowed Grier to give her pointers about her hair, and had taken her advice on what to wear, drawing the line at wearing her boots with a skirt. Sam felt utterly, completely, foolish. Who wore a skirt, and dusty work boots? There had to be something she was missing, but if work boots were the thing...<p>

Grier cut in, "You're kidding, right?" There was a smile on her face, "Who knew you were so funny!" Sam looked at Grier's roper toed, leather tooled, never seen a stirrup cowboy boots, and grinned like she had been meaning to be silly.

Sam didn't see the point of spending money on boots like that, so she never really had. Sam picked up her flats, "You got me." Sam slipped them on, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was curlier than normal, thanks to some random spray in a purple bottle, and a little bit of effort.

The volume looked pretty, rather than a rat's nest. Her wristlet matched the dark green of her top. The camisole underneath the button down made Sam feel more covered. Grier put on lipstick, and winked, "Ready?"

Sam should not have replied so easily, as they entered into the dark, loud, house a few blocks from campus. It was not at all her kind of party, not that she had ever been to a college party before.

Sam realized suddenly that people were drinking, as they laughed uproariously and danced closely in one room, while in another, people crowded around a beer pong table. The kitchen was even more crowded with people, who were grabbing drinks.

Sam realized that Grier had slipped away when they'd started trying to find their place here. Sam went back into the living room to find her, and was jostled by a couple of people. Sam realized that they were drunk, and that the party was only getting started, for people were filling the house quickly.

She did not want to be here. She needed to find Grier and chicken out. She had thought that this would prove that she was mature, when she walked into the dorm later, and made a point of making her presence known to the man across the hall, but it didn't make her anything but aware that she was in way, way, over her head and so far outside of her comfort zone it wasn't even funny. This wasn't right, and this wasn't even safe.

A hand came down on Sam's elbow, and she had begun to force her arm back to throw off the person, when Grier reassured her, "I went to get drinks. Lola's found a space for us to hang."

Sam took the soda gladly, and took a slight sip, only to realize that it...wasn't soda. It was rum, maybe? Something like rum and coke, heavy on the rum. She knew what the soda was, and didn't put things in soda?

"Good, right?" Grier asked for reassurance, and Sam smiled tightly, around what she could not swallow. She spat the liquid back into the cup, hopefully without being seen. Grier took a healthy sip of whatever was in her cup. Sam wasn't stupid enough to think it was soda.

Grier seemed to buy it when she smiled. Sam resolved to ditch the cup as soon as she could. She sat down on the edge of the love seat that Grier's new friends had commandeered. Sam tried to hear them over the loud music. When she tried to move closer, someone dumped whisky on her. She sat back on the icky couch. She couldn't even hear herself think, so she just sat there, nodding and smiling when it seemed that she was expected to do so, over the loud music.

Sam waved gratefully at Blake when she saw him. He was a friend of Jake's, and so, she trusted him somehow, based on her own assessment of him. Hey saddled up to her, his eyebrows in his hairline. "Sammy?"

Where had he heard that awful nickname? She smiled, and stood. The other girls on the sofa just ignored her as they made their way, laughing, joking, and chattering, through their libations. Grier shot her a 'go get 'em' look that seemed overblown. Sam corrected Blake,"Sam."

"Right." He said, into her ear, over the music that had forced them together. He smelled like Axe. "Rocking party, right?"

Sam didn't think so, but she nodded. He asked her to dance, she declined. He seemed intent on staying, so she went with the flow, and let him go get food. She wasn't going to touch it, but at least she was being social. Right?

He could maybe walk her back, then, and she wouldn't be so worried about crossing the campus as it got later, and later, and later... It was fully dark now.

Blake came back, and his phone rang. Sam took the plate. He all but shouted, "Dude, I'm at a party. It's just getting started..." He called into the phone, "What? No! I will not come and run your floor meeting. It's your floor!"

Sam's blood drained from her face as she dug out her phone from her wristlet. It was 10:13. And...she had three text messages over the span of the last few hours. They were increasingly...Jakeish. She had promised to be there, promised to support him. He was an ass, sure, but he hated public speaking. Even at his worst, she was not going to throw him to the wolves without some kind of backup. Their disagreements and angst were private. In front of people, they were fine. Maintaining that united front was important to her.

"I've got to go!" She all but screamed, over the noise.

Blake pulled back from his phone, "You can't go yet! You need to _stay_!" Where did he get off, telling her what to do?

If she didn't take that from Jake, who generally had a pretty good head on his shoulders, what the hell made this surfer dude Brian Wilson wannabe think she would take his advice? He probably couldn't even survive without wifi and an electric mixer. Okay, well, she couldn't survive without Wifi and an electric mixer, but it's only because they ate so much bread and Pandora was a gift from God.

Sam shook her head and walked away. She found Grier, bumping up against some guy. She cut in between them, using her elbows and every bit of her imposing nature. "Floor meeting. We have to go. There's a floor meeting, and we promised..." Sam was almost frantic. She had promised. How could this be? It was so late.

Grier just laughed. "I'm having fun! Aren't you?" She was concerned for Grier. They had been here long enough. Grier was likely drunk. "Dirk and I are dancing!" Dirk tried to pull Grier away, but Grier gave him a look, and he looped an arm around her waist from behind, and laid his lips upon her neck, in a very showy way. Gross.

How was any of this fun? It was so loud, and dull at the same time.

Sam cut him a scathing look. "I need to talk to my friend!" He seemed to get the message, and stopped practically sucking on Grier's neck. The other people were looking their way. Some were twittering.

"Sam! If you need to go, go!" Grier didn't get it, as she giggled and the guy went back to sucking on her neck like Vlad the Impaler.

Sam knew that she could not leave without Grier. They had come together, and they would leave together. It was only about being a decent person. Grier was vulnerable, and Sam was her roommate. They needed to stick together.

"Come on, Grier!" Sam replied, gently, "Let's go, uhm, find your overshirt...jacket, thing." Sam started to look around, and saw Blake coming their way.

"I hate to break up this little funfest, Dudette, but you've got a call on line one." He passed her the phone, and said, "I'll talk to Grier." Sam figured if Jake had called him, that he could be trusted in a crowded room with Grier. It wasn't breaking girl code to walk away. Sam took the phone, and walked out the front door.

"I've got nothing to apologize for," Sam said flat out.

She didn't know why the story she had read last year came to mind. This girl, at the turn of the century, had gotten on the trolley and gone to the fair without her fiancee. She had rushed home to his arms and swore that she would take his advice from then on, because the adventure she had fun wasn't the one she wanted. Sam hated the unity she felt with that simpering girl in a storybook. "But I am sorry that your meeting is sparsely attended."

Jake replied, "I rescheduled it twenty minutes ago." Sam realized that Jake's voice wasn't coming from the phone, but the swing near where she was standing. He filled the space as he hung up his phone, and uncrossed his boot-clad feet. Sam hated that she was so happy to see him. "And everyone that needs to be there, is going to be there."

Sam gulped, and hung up Blake's phone. "I should go give this back." She didn't quite know what to say. The tiny part of her was annoyed that he had come charging after her. The bigger part though, was just glad that he was here.

Jake pushed to his feet, the swing creaking with his movement. "I'll do it. Who knows when this place is going to get raided?" Sam huffed, but passed the phone over to him. She really did not want to go back in there. Really, though this party wasn't that bad. Right?

Jake came back out just as Sam had resolved to reenter the fray and take care of Grier. Jake shook his head, "Blake's going to see Grier home when she wants to go." Jake gestured to the stairs, in a 'let's go' motion.

Sam hesitated. Jake added, "He's a good guy, Sam. They're friends, didn't you know?" Sam didn't know that she felt right about leaving, but she saw Blake coming towards the door with Grier and a water bottle. She figured she could be a few steps ahead of them.

"Let's go." Sam agreed, and hopped down the stairs, feeling lighter than she had in hours. They walked towards the sidewalk in silence.

Jake angled a look down at her. "Do I want to know why you stink like whisky?" His shoes scuffed along the sidewalk.

"Nope." Sam licked her lips, and smiled. "Do I want to know why you decided to come here?"

"What are you talking about? I needed a walk." Jake clearly lied, "If fraternity row happened to be my choice, I don't know why you should care." His words echoed her own, and Sam felt the pain he must have felt when she had said the same thing. She cared, because it was him. She cared.

Sam chuckled. "Never said I did." After a second, she added, "I'm still pissed at you."

Jake started to cut across the lawn towards the track building. He pulled open the side doorway, and it was all Sam could do to suppress a shiver. "Because I came by to talk to Blake about taking over the RA gig?"

Sam ducked past him, looking up quickly. "You didn't." They weren't stopping on the stairs, that much was clear. Sam's pavlovian reactions to this space and his nearness were her own problem. She shut her eyes against the memories.

The door shut behind her. "I thought about it." They padded up the back stairs, and Sam wondered how the door was unlocked. Jake had probably used the key he'd gotten on the sly from Coach. She heard the door lock behind her as he followed her.

Jake opened another door, and she found herself in the locker room, lit only by the emergency lights. "Really?" Her eyebrows were in her hair for two reasons. Sam walked towards the back of the space. She spun around, and looked at Jake, "Really?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I couldn't figure out why...it's made you so unhappy, but if you are, it isn't..." He shrugged, and Sam dropped to the bench behind her.

Sam swallowed. He was willing to walk away from a responsibility to make her happy, to fix what he thought was wrong between them. It was a huge, meaningful, thing for her. It wasn't their issue at all, but it meant a lot."Keep it, Jake. Really."

"Why?" Jake asked, sitting on the bench beside her.

"Because you like to help people. And the free room and board is nice." Sam continued, "And... I don't get why you didn't let me in on the plot here, but I have to say, seeing the day the noble Jake Ely falsified a department form, snuck around, lied, and manipulated to get something he wanted was pretty...demonstrative." They would have to discuss boundaries, but later. That he wanted her that badly made her feel tight and aching inside. She realized then, that what he had said and done hadn't been their issue, not really. It was the not talking from the start that set this up.

She would have been happy to live in Shawshank with him across the hall, if only he hadn't been such a freak about it. Maybe she had started the whole not talking thing, and maybe she should have ended it, maybe she should have told him what she thought instead of letting it stew. It would have made things better, and maybe, he would have run his idiotic plan by her first.

And anyway, if she hated Shawshank that much, she could always get a room transfer. She had a copy of the form in her bag, after all. It would take two hours. She wasn't passive, and she always had options. She wanted to stick this out for a day or two, she decided.

Jake leaned in then, his words floating down through her hair. "Really?"

"Uh huh." Sam leaned into him. She couldn't believe how she had not seen what he was saying earlier. He had been telling her, in his own messed up way, that their relationship was a priority for him. "Leaves me wondering, though, what exactly what you wanted, and why..." Sam shook off her thoughts.

Jake snorted, understanding that they understood each other. "A little slow on the uptake, huh?"

Sam's hand went around to the back of his neck, and her smile was wide. She lived to correct him. "Must be the rum."

Jake's grin put the stars to right, set the earth back on its axis, made her feel like she could breathe again. "Whisky."

Sam retorted. "That's what you think."

She was leaning forward to kiss him, when he pulled back, a softly annoyed, laughing, look on his face. "You really do stink."

This was communication. Sam decided to tell him exactly what she thought, even if what he said had hurt her. "I'm offended. And hurt. And I think you lied. I smell like berry blast, I'll have you know, and I taste like rum, not whiskey."

"Oh yeah?" Jake's dare was entirely superfluous as he untucked her camisole, "Prove it."

"I can't." Sam demurred, just because she could. "I stink, and that's no fun. I do have an idea though." Sam tilted her head, and blinked like a starry-eyed ninny, completely on purpose. "How big are the showers?" Jake's fingers went slack in her clothing, and Sam pushed to her feet, twisted on the water, and kicked off her flats.

"Did you just ask me how long the hot water lasts?' Jake replied, pulling his shirt over his head. Sam was incredibly into this idea. It had been hers, after all, and they weren't so good with words.

Sam's hands were on her buttons when she paused, "We can't." She was incredibly disappointed. The steam was already filling the space, and the small space called to her. She really needed the closeness, really needed to talk, really needed to feel a shared vulnerability and power.

Jake was halfway across the large room as she stopped talking.

They were plunged into a deeper darkness, with only the lights in the corners left on. "I think it'll still happen for you, Sam, if we leave the lights on." Jake was halfway across the large room as he spoke. Sam heard his boots fall to the floor.

"I have to be able to tell the truth, idiot." Sam heard the rustling of fabric, and moved faster to peel away her layers, "And so, when Gram asks me if I have ever seen you naked, I can tell the absolute, complete, technical truth."

"I think it's still a lie." Jake called from under the spray. Sam ignored the clip in her hair so that he wouldn't waste the hot water, "Because that's not what she's asking you at all. And really, when has she ever said the word naked?"

Never, but that wasn't the point. Sam got to the point. "You really want to talk about this, now?" Showers were her happy place. Some people thought best in their beds, but not her. She needed hot water and a room full of steam to relax, if she couldn't have her horses.

Jake turned up the heat of the water, nearly bumping into the wall as he did so, his wet hands slip-sliding over her body. "Nope." The cubicle was tinier that she had anticipated, but it worked out well enough for them, or at least it would, she hoped.

Sam grabbed the body wash Jake had grabbed from his locker, and poured too much of the liquid over her hands in the darkness. The flat plane of Jake's chest was a perfect place to write silly words. There were no words today, just slow circles that became, somehow, hearts, with the rush of air of air that left her lungs the second his fingers cradled her skull.

Sam stepped forward, and Jake absorbed her body weight as her knees started to shake, as his hands left her hair and drifted over her body, lingering in hidden spaces with a gentleness that was just a precursor to what she really needed. "Easy..." Jake muttered harshly, hands everywhere, except where she most wanted them. God, could he get on with this, already?

"You're easy." It had been too long. She wasn't easy, the stupid, oblivious... She was merely deprived. Jake's fingers dipped into the hollow of her belly button, and Sam arched with a sound that even he should have understood, to hurry him along. He grinned, and let his teeth graze her shoulder.

Sam knew that he was all talk. She gave him a pointed look, and shot back, "I'm easy. _Sure_."

"I was trying to tell you to relax, but if you want to tease and play word games..." Jake retorted, his feet bracketing hers just when Sam thought she was going to fall over. It was so nice being short, sometimes. It would be so easy to... "There's something you should know."

"Wh-" Sam started, mostly beyond rational thought, with a few touches and one very drawn out kiss. Oh, this was nice. This was better than nice. It was so ill-advised that it was perfect.

His harsh breathing broke into her thoughts, and Sam worked to fill her lungs. "The hot water doesn't run out."

What did that mean? The hot water ran out at home so quickly, that sometimes she couldn't even... Oh. _Oh_. Sam's hands found purchase on Jake's shoulders. The hot water beaded on her hands. Sam shut Jake up quickly, now that she wasn't lightheaded. He always wanted to talk when talking wasn't the point, even when all they'd had to say had been expressed, in their own imperfect way.

* * *

><p>Sam yanked the comb from Jake's kit through her hair, the towel they were sharing not having done much to dry it. "How did you do it?" Sam yanked through a curl with the wide comb, and hated how it knotted on the end.<p>

Jake was dressed. He didn't look utterly spent and spaced out. He was crisp and neat, even if there was a bit of a relaxed glow about his eyes as they drifted over her back in the mirror. Sam felt the ghost of his lips on those same freckles. She resisted the urge to drop the towel. Again. They really had to get out of here before she went totally limp and demanded he put her to bed. "The paperwork, you mean?"

"How many room assignments have you forged in the last week?" Sam retorted, working through a curl. He needed conditioner in his locker. How could he have such pretty hair and not use any conditioner at all? It was not fair.

"Hm." Jake said noncommittally, "Does it matter?"

Sam thought about it. It didn't really matter. "Coach is a terrible example." She let the matter drop as she saw her phone light up in the semi-darkness. She moved toward the bench, and picked up the phone. Jake passed it to her, and slid his hands around the soft swells of her hips underneath the towel, probably, she figured, because she was there. He said he liked her skin...

She glanced at the text. "It's just..." She breathed out, at the soft circles the pads of Jake's thumbs were creating over her hipbones. It was a soothing gesture. "Sue...wants to know if I'm satisfied with your explanation."

Sam knew instantly that Jake was blushing. She wouldn't allow herself to giggle. She wasn't 12.

She returned, "Hey, I'm just reading the text, gutterbrains."

Jake laughed softly, as she put down the phone and yanked on her jeans. She was quickly dressed, even if her bra was a little twisted and her shirt was a bit askew. The room was just as they'd found it. Sam felt refreshed, even if she was a bit rumpled.

Jake, in a rare show of emotion, wrapped an arm around her as they trekked across campus in the darkness. "Do you forgive me?"

"I still have to deal with my RA, and reside in Shawshank." Sam replied, "And he's a pretty bossy dude who likes to tell me what to do. But you know, I think, this RA gig just might be a good thing, in the end."

"Hm?" Jake replied. Sam heard the arch in his eyebrow as they walked along. Russell Hall was mere feet away.

"Because you're obligated to answer all of my questions honestly." Sam supplied, not at all serious. Jake had never really lied, and she believed he never would. It was too much work. "For example, theoretically, if one wanted to change a room assignment on the down low, for very lecherous and lurid reasons, how would they go about doing so?"

Jake snorted, "Lurid?" Jake added as they went up the stairs, "Copy machine, a piece of white paper, a pen, and an unattended computer, with twenty seconds."

Sam knew there was more to the story. She would have to get more of it tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to sleep. Thank God the entire campus was pretty much out, doing movie night, or, as the case may be, partying. The other students would be back tomorrow.

When they were in front of her room, Jake leaned down from behind her and whispered, "Just for calling me creepy and saying that I moved you for lurid reasons, I'm not going to tell you the copier codes. You can pay like a normal freshman."

Jake stepped back, and Sam spun around, "You do realize I take all of my change out of the cup on your desk, right?"

She didn't really, but the point she was trying to make stood. The soft click of his door behind her told her that he knew, and for now, that was enough.

_Magic moments, mem'ries we've been sharin'_

_Magic moments, when two hearts are carin'_

_Time can't erase the memory of_

_These magic moments filled with love_

_Magic Moments_, Perry Como

**A more typical take on the whole Sake at college, I hope, now that ABN is over. This takes place, as I noted in the summary, after chapter two of I Remember You, but before Loula's introduction, as she doesn't exist in this 'verse, yet. At some points, we'll check in on Loula, and her experiences in the later years.**

**So here's what I need from you: prompts and feedback for and about college experiences you might want me to explore. I'm open to flashbacks, but make sure to read _I Remember You_, if you want. This is going to be my side project as we finish_ Amarillo by Morning_. **

**Next up is orientation day one. **

**And yes, that was a Chris LeDoux reference in there, along with a nod to _Son-in-Law_, and _Steel Magnolias_. Points if you find them.**


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